The Thighs The Limit

The Thigh's The Limit...
Soft, alluring, smooth as silk
Your yielding skin as white as milk,
The inner thigh, that tender spot
That reaches up to portals, hot
Afire with passion, hidden minge
Below the pubic-covering fringe.

What whispered secrets do they know?
Whose cheeks have felt their crushing blow?
As taken to the heights of lust
Involuntary, pelvic thrust
Reaches out to draw them in
And delve their tongue inside, within.

Encased in denim, satin, wool
Their sturdy shape defined and full
Of power And in summer days
The lucky breeze, in whispers plays
Around that smoothness, teasing touch
Below your scented musky crutch.